Pickles and peanut butter
by flyin'rabbit
Summary: Ginny wasn't pregnant. She was probably just on some strange diet she had forgotten to tell Harry about.


**A/N**: Just a little Harry/Ginny story I wrote :) Hope you'll like it!

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the world of Harry Potter :(

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"Harry? We're out of peanut butter!"

Harry Potter looked up from the Daily Prophet and frowned at his wife Ginny, who was frantically looking through every cabinet in their kitchen, apparently looking for peanut butter.

"What do you mean, we're out of peanut butter? I bought some only last week!" he told her. "It can't all be gone already! Besides, you don't even like peanut butter!"

Ginny turned towards him. "But it's all gone!" she almost whined. "And I've developed quite a liking for it lately, thank you very much. It tastes delicious with some pickles. Which reminds me, we're out of pickles as well."

Harry stared at her blankly. "You don't like pickles either!" he exclaimed. "Are you kidding me, or what?" He cast a quick look at the calendar. Nope, it wasn't even April yet. It was only October.

Ginny now looked as if she was about to burst to tears. "No, I'm not kidding you! How can you say that, Harry? I'm hungry, and I want pickles. Pickles and peanut butter. And perhaps even some whipped cream."

Harry looked at her, worriedly. "Honestly Ginny, how can you even think about eating that? It kind of makes me want to vomit…"

Ginny paled as he said this and she bolted out of the kitchen. Before Harry could reach her, he heard the obvious sound of someone throwing up. How she could do so while she was hungry at the same time was beyond him.

He awkwardly patted her back as she let out a groan. "I feel sick," she said, almost inaudibly. Harry had already noticed that, but he chose not to say this. He didn't want to upset Ginny even more, now that she wasn't feeling too well.

"Maybe – " he started, trying to come up with something. "Maybe it's from eating pickles with peanut butter?" He cowered as Ginny glared at him.

"No, it's not," she said haughtily. "I think I'll go lie down for a bit. Can you go to the supermarket to buy some food? And _don't you dare_ forget the pickles, the peanut butter, the whipped cream _or_ the rice."

Deciding that it would be best not to irritate Ginny any further, Harry carefully backed out of the bathroom. Pickles, peanut butter, whipped cream and rice. Well, as long as he didn't have to eat it himself.

It took him an hour to buy everything they needed, as it turned out that there actually wasn't any food left in the house. That was very strange, because Harry was sure that he had not only bought peanut butter last week, but a wide range of other products as well. And as far as he was aware, Ginny hadn't hosted a get together for her and her brothers in the past week, so he couldn't think of any explanation for the sudden disappearance of all their food.

The cashier eyed the pile of food (twice as much as Harry had bought the week before, to be safe. And, of course, an enormous supply of pickles, two cans of whipped cream, and all the peanut butter and rice he could find. He hoped dearly that Ginny wouldn't change her diet anytime soon, because he certainly wasn't planning on touching that food at all.) as Harry paid for it all. "You're either planning a big party," the cashier commented, "or you've got a pregnant woman at home."

Slightly disturbed, Harry stared at him. "Neither, actually," he informed the cashier. "I think it's some strange diet my wife's trying. Dunno why she bothers, though, it's not as if she needs to lose weight."

"She's pregnant," the cashier said simply. "You can be sure of that."

"She's not pregnant," Harry retorted. "And if you'll excuse me, I'm leaving now."

Ginny, pregnant? Yeah right. She had told him herself that she didn't want kids anytime soon. Alright, that was two years ago, but still. She was a great Quidditch player, and Harry couldn't picture her giving that up so she could sit around at their house all day long.

While he carried the big boxes into the house, Ginny had come down to the kitchen and was now inspecting the various items he bought. "Why did it take so long?" she asked him, searching one of the boxes for her beloved pickles. Or the peanut butter, Harry wasn't sure which. "I'm hungry!"

"Could you give me a hand here, please?" Harry asked her, as he tried to store everything away in all their cabinets. When she didn't answer, he looked around to find Ginny close to tears. "What's wrong?" he asked concernedly. Ginny let out a loud wail.

"You don't love me anymore!" she cried out. She grabbed some peanut butter and some pickles and hurried back up the stairs, and a moment later, Harry heard a door slam. Wondering if what he just asked was truly that terrible, he continued trying to fit everything in the cabinets, but that was a lost battle. It was simply too much. With a sigh, Harry put all the remaining items back in a box (the biggest one of all) and levitated it into the smallest, darkest, messiest room of the entire house. And now that he had dealt with that, he would have to deal with Ginny. Which would be a lot harder than just stuffing food away.

"Ginny?" he asked carefully, knocking on the only closed door at the first floor. "Are you alright?"

Before he knew it, the door flew open. "What do you think, Harry?" she yelled at him, obviously still upset.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked. He couldn't be more confused. "Why are you overreacting like this? Why are you suddenly eating – well, that," he said, nodding towards Ginny's right hand, which was holding a pickle, completely covered with peanut butter.

"I'm not overreacting!" Ginny shouted. "Do you hear me, _I am not overreacting!_"

Harry held up his hands in surrender. "Alright, you're not overreacting. Then tell me, why are you so hysterical now?"

"_I'm not hysterical!_" Ginny shouted, even louder than before. "But I get it! You think I'm just a raving lunatic who should be locked up – well, I've had it. I'm going home."

"But – you are home," Harry said, not understanding what she was talking about.

"I'm going to my parents." Ginny was fuming by now. "At least they'll understand me. They still love me." Suddenly, she looked more like a sad little girl than a completely hysterical, pickle eating madwoman. She pushed past Harry and a few seconds later, he heard a loud crack.

Thinking about what he could say when he arrived at the Burrow, Harry turned towards the room first. Ginny must have been sitting on the floor, for that was where the food still was. Harry hoped that Molly and Arthur were suited enough for Ginny's sudden arrival and her changed eating habits. After cleaning up after her, he, too, Disapparated.

When nobody came to answer the door, he just let himself in. Stepping into the kitchen, he heard loud sniffing and soft muttering coming from the living room. He stuck his head around the corner and noticed that Ginny seemed to have broken down completely, and her mother was trying her best to cheer her up. "Er – hi," he said awkwardly. "Is this a really bad time?"

Molly whispered something to her daughter, stood up and walked towards him. Dragging him back into the kitchen and closing the door behind them, she asked, "What happened? Ginny's going on and on about how you don't love her anymore, but that's all she says."

Harry quickly explained how he had asked her to give him a hand and how she had reacted to that. After he had finished, Molly eyed him thoughtfully. "So you're saying that one moment, she was fine, and all of a sudden, her mood changed completely?" Harry nodded. "Has this happened before?"

Harry thought for a moment. "Perhaps – now that I think about it, she might have been a little unpredictable sometimes…"

"Is anything else going on?" Molly asked. "Is she acting strangely in other ways?"

"Well," Harry started. He could think of a couple of things. "She threw up this morning. I'm not sure whether that happened before. And lately, she's eating such odd things. This morning, she wanted pickles with peanut butter and whipped cream. And rice." He looked questioningly at his mother-in-law, who looked all the more thoughtful now.

"Wait here for a moment, Harry," she told him, and she walked back into the living room. Harry wasn't sure how much time passed after she told him to wait, but after a while, he started to get bored. Before long, though, the door swung open again, revealing both Ginny and Molly. Ginny smiled shyly at him.

"Hey," she said softly. "Uh – I'm sorry about earlier." She glanced at her mother, who was smiling encouragingly. "I – guess I _was_ overreacting a little bit."

"That's alright," Harry assured her. "But do you know what's wrong yet?" At his question, the two women exchanged looks, which, Harry had already experienced many times before, couldn't mean much good.

"I'm pregnant," Ginny said in a small voice, staring down at her hands. "At least, that's what mum thinks."

Harry looked at her, in shock. Then he fixed his eyes upon Molly. "Are you _sure_?" he asked, flabbergasted. "She's _pregnant_?" Noticing that Ginny's eyes were becoming a little teary again, he quickly added, "That's great, of course. I mean, it is, right? I think it's great. Don't you think it's – "

"Harry," Molly interrupted him, "I'm sure Ginny gets what you're trying to say. Don't you, Ginny?" Ginny nodded meekly. "And yes, I do think she's pregnant. You might want to go to St Mungo's to have it confirmed, but I definitely think she is." She smiled fondly, although Harry noticed that she looked slightly worried as well. But that was only natural, he assumed, if you just found out that your only daughter's pregnant.

"So you're not mad?" Ginny asked him, obviously looking for solid confirmation.

"I think it's great," Harry answered, grinning. "As long as you'll be eating pickles with peanut butter for at least another month, otherwise I have no idea what to do with all that stuff."

"You know, I _am_ rather hungry," Ginny told him. "So let's go. Mum doesn't have any pickles here. She does have peanut butter, for some reason. But without pickles, I don't like peanut butter."

"Alright, sweetie, take care," Molly said, embracing her daughter tightly. "Oh, wait until I tell your father!"

"Should I be worried now?" Harry whispered to Ginny, as soon as they stepped out of the front door.

"About dad? No. About my brothers? Yes," she answered, unable to hide a smirk.

"That's really too bad," Harry said, sighing. "I'd rather deal with your father. After all, there's only one of him, opposed to the five brothers you have…"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "And you saved the world? You are nothing but a big wimp!"

"Am not!" Harry retorted, but he rolled his eyes as well. He couldn't wait until the baby would be born. Then, at least, Ginny wouldn't have an excuse anymore for her mood swings, her eating habits or whatever else that was yet to come…

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**A/N**: As always, let me know what you thought about it, please review!


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